


Absolute Zero

by hoihoihellstar



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, Handcuffs, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Pseudo-Incest, Spanking, Unhealthy Relationships, Unsafe Sex, briefly, slight praise kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-03 18:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21183818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoihoihellstar/pseuds/hoihoihellstar
Summary: Rewritten ending for RHatO(2016) #32, except he didn't forget the Bat-cuffs...





	Absolute Zero

**Author's Note:**

> **NOTE:** Hey all, I'm just gonna need everyone to work with me on this and pretend that Batman tossed Suzie Su out and locked the door behind her. This isn't all happening with her unconscious right there, but there wasn't really an organic way to write that in lol
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this filth. It was literally the first thing I thought of when I read this issue. 
> 
> Thanks :)

_ "Honestly, I'm looking forward to the chance to explain my side of the story in court. I'm sure Vicki Vale would like an exclusive." _

Jason's heart raced with both excitement and a little fear. He loved this feeling of getting one over on the old Bats. Maybe that's why he'd come back to Gotham so short a time after Batman had beat him so hard it'd broken his updated, reinforced mask. Since he'd ripped the Bat symbol from his chest, and told him Red Hood was no longer welcome in Gotham City.

Well, Batman or Bruce or _ whoever _ he was today, didn't get to decide where he went; what he did; who he associated with. Jason wanted to play nice... _ mostly, _ but that didn't mean he had to follow _ all _of the Bat's rules.

Not anymore.

Jason realized he was still holding his wrists up, serving himself up on a silver platter if only Batman were stupid enough to take the offer.

_ "What's the matter? Forgot to pack the Bat-cuffs?" _

There was a tic in Batman's jaw, the slightest shift of muscles, barely perceptible on that perpetually dour mug; if you didn't know what to look for, that was. But Jason knew him. Well enough to know he'd probably fucked up.

The room spun; in less than a second Batman had him by the wrist and effortlessly flipped him. Jason's chest slammed against the surprisingly durable — he was pretty sure the hero had been going for a shatter with that move — arcing glass desk, jaw bouncing off and cracking painfully. 

_ Definitely fucked up. _

Jason distantly acknowledged his champagne flute being knocked over and shattering on the floor. His Louboutins slipped in the leftover alcohol, and if Batman didn't have a hold of him he would have already fallen face first.

Jason heard _ a clink, _and then the press of cold metal against his wrist. He tugged anyway, and found he couldn't move, as expected. 

"I didn't forget them." Batman growled.

Jason tried to kick out, but muscular thighs, like steel pillars, had him pinned. He tried to jerk his head back — headbutt the old man in the nose, mouth, _ wherever _ — but a large hand on the back of his neck quickly subdued him. 

"Fuck. You." He grunted out, jerking his shoulders back and forth, the only area he had some leeway, but it was no use. Just wasted energy. "You can't do anything to me."

"I can't turn you in to the GCPD. That you do have right, Jason." His voice lowered, sounding distinctly like _ Bruce _and not Batman.

"I have to give you credit on that. You have always been clever. _ So _ resourceful." Bruce slackened his grip on the back of Jason's neck just slightly, thumb stroking back and forth at his hairline, almost affectionately. It sent shivers down Jason's spine, that made him relax involuntarily. "If only you didn't waste your talents on these_..._ _ criminal pursuits _." 

Bruce was quiet for a dragging minute, and Jason's heart pounded in his ears as he tried to figure out where this was going.

"But I can't continue to let your _ childish _ behavior go unpunished." Batman continued finally, and Jason tried to rear up again in retaliation, but was held down with annoying ease.

"You're just afraid to admit that I bested you." Jason bit back, unable to control the compulsive part of himself that _ needed _ to yank the Bat's wings. To get his attention and _ keep _ it. "Why don't you just admit that you get off on controlling everyone around you? You don't want to compromise with me. Or _anyone._ So, I'm done trying. And you can't fucking stand that." Even if it hurt.

There was a long, painful silence. Batman was like a brick wall against him, giving him nothing, barely even room to breathe. All he could hear was his own ragged, furious breaths.

Then, Jason heard shifting, the sound of leather, and one heavy gauntlet _smacked _onto the desk, right beside his head. The sound was _ too loud, _seemed to echo through the room, sparking something familiar in the back of his mind. 

Suddenly, the now gloveless hand reached around him, fiddling with his belt buckle. Batman quickly worked it open, followed by the hook on his dress pants. It happened before Jason could react, or even think about what was happening. 

What _ was _ happening? Seriously, _ what the fuck? _

His pants were roughly shoved down alongside his underwear, exposing his bare ass to the chill that always seemed to hang in the air of the Iceberg Lounge. The exposed flesh of his thighs pinpricked under the Bat's gaze, and he broke out in goosebumps up to his neck.

"If this is your new way of dealing with criminals, I'd hate to see how you treat the ladies nowadays." Jason quipped, against his better judgement. 

He jolted as a large, warm hand settled across his ass cheeks, fingers spread to show just how big, intimidating, _ powerful. _ There was that feeling of familiarity again, followed by visceral panic. 

_ He's not really going to... _

"Bruce?" He hated how weak his voice sounded.

It must have triggered something in the man, because Bruce's hand disappeared — only to come back down quickly with a resounding, painful _smack, _ten times louder than the drop of the gauntlet. The sound was more of a shock than the sting.

There was another strike. Then again. In the same place on the left cheek, over and over. Eventually, Batman switched his focus to the other side, until his entire ass was made of fire. It fucking hurt, sure, but more than anything it was _ humiliating. _

He had only experienced it twice before, back when he was Robin. Both times he'd been so stupid and wreckless he'd almost gotten himself killed. Both times he'd had to stay back from patrol for over a week, because he could hardly sit, much less crouch, not to mention complex maneuvers. 

Jason made an attempt to cover his reddening ass with his cuffed hands, not very effectively. When Batman's hand came down again it caught his finger tips, and Jason quickly jerked them back with a yelp, the handcuffs digging into his back and leaving scratches as he yanked away. It hurt, but that barely registered against the throbbing in his fingers, and unending blows his backside was taking.

Bruce started alternating, pattern becoming unpredictable, and Jason's whole ass was throbbing. He was definitely going to be bruised black in the morning, but he was harder than he'd been in his life. When had _that_ _happened? _

"You're getting off on this aren't you, old man? You like making me submit to you. _ You're fucking sick." _ Jason knew he was projecting, but he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Never had been able to. It was a blessing and a curse.

This time he was rewarded with somehow _ harder _ hits. Slower from the amount of force behind them, enough to force him further up the desk, feet no longer touching the floor. Each hit resonated from his hips and up through the core of his body, startling sounds from him that he didn't know he could make.

Jason choked on a scream that came out as more of a pathetic whine. The underside of his dick ground against the cold and unyielding glass, and he had to keep his thighs tensed to avoid sliding into an even more uncomfortable position. The sweat building up made it that much harder. 

As if on cue, Jason fell forward. He instinctively tried to catch himself, only to feel the solid metal cuffs bite into his wrists. Batman twisted the hand holding him down into the back of his dress shirt. It caught him, the collar digging into his neck in a way that made him light-headed, and just barely straining to breathe.

It took Jason a minute to realize the spanking had stopped, too busy coming back down after almost breaking his entire face on the floor of his own — _ well, Penguin's — _ office. His ass still throbbed, and it took him another minute to realize the hand that had been beating his ass raw just seconds ago was now _petting him. _Stroking softly where he'd left marks, careful to skip over any particularly bad areas. 

Batman dragged him back, just enough so Jason could stand again — though his legs would be useless if he didn't have the desk to lean on — finally releasing his collar. Jason gasped in air, blood rushing loudly in his temples. He should move, do something, _ anything _ but be totally pathetic. Why didn't he speak up?

Bruce's palm glided down over one well-muscled thigh, fingertips and the light press of nails sending noticeable shivers down his spine and out to every connecting limb.

"Good boy, Jay. You endured your punishment well." Bruce rumbled, and Jason sighed, relaxing despite himself.

Here the old man had just busted in on his operation, treated him like little more than an errant child, and Jason was warm and _ grateful _ because Bruce was touching him so softly and complimenting him using that low tone. Bruce had done such a good job of instilling this weird, fucked-up sense of devotion in him; he couldn't help but respond. 

"St-stop— Don't—"

Bruce chuckled lightly in response. "You endured the punishment, but you complain about a little praise?"

_ So damned hot and cold, you're driving me _ crazy , _ old man. _He didn't know how to deal with Bruce being nice to him without some kind of pretense.

Then, the touch was gone. That was almost worse than the beating. He heard the _ swish _ of a cape like a bats wings and near-silent bootsteps growing further from him. Felt suddenly keyed-up and desperate.

"Wait— "

Jason slid to the floor, the edge of the desk scraping over his abdomen and chest through the thin fabric of his dress shirt. The heels of his shoes and rough fabric of his bunched-up pants dug torturously into his abused backside as he plopped down. Jason pictured the huge hand-shaped welts he'd definitely see in the morning, imagine looking in the mirror tomorrow and running his hands over the bubbled flesh. Wondered how long he could keep the bruises this time. 

It was slow going, turning around and crawling on his knees without the use of his hands. Batman waited impassively, still half-turned towards the window, while Jason struggled to kneel before him.

"Let me make it up to you, boss."

The Bat turned completely toward him, towering over Jason with an aura that said 'I'm waiting' or 'impress me'.

Jason leaned in to mouth at the hard outline of a cup, peeking up at Batman through his lashes with as innocent an expression as he could muster. The white lenses of the cowl narrowed slightly, but otherwise, the man gave away nothing. Batman's fists were balled at his sides, every muscle drawn tight, unmoving but ready to strike.

Jason bit down, digging blunt teeth into Kevlar and some flexible, faux leather material — _ probably manufactured by Wayne Tech _ — layered over protective plastic. He needed a reaction. Needed this to not be over yet.

Batman flinched, before the gauntlet gripped Jason's hair, yanking him back and straining his neck. Probably gave him a good case of whiplash too. If he weren't so far gone, Jason might have laughed. _ Don't seem so surprised. _

Jason stared into narrowed white lenses that watched him with suspicion. Tried his best to look docile. Rightly disciplined, though they both knew this wouldn't be the end of his misbehavior. He wasn't a good little bird like Dickie or Tim afterall. 

But there was still _ that _ part of him. The lost kid looking for guidance. Who wanted to be useful. A good boy. A good _ soldier. _

God, he was fucked.

Jason traced his tongue over his lower lip, could sense eyes tracing the movement. He opened his mouth, hesitated, licked his lips again, this time out of nerves.

"Please?" Out of everything, forcing that one word out felt the most like surrendering something important.

Jason could see Batman's bare fist clench out of the corner of his eye, though he kept his gaze fixed on the cowl. He flinched, waiting for a hit that never came. The gauntlet's hold tightened in his hair, and he was pretty sure he was going to have a bald-spot. Maybe he could get Alfred to teach him the art of the combover...

He was surprised when Batman started to unclasped the front of his suit. It took a few minutes — after all, it wouldn't do for the Bat to leave such a sensitive area too easy to access — and Jason's mouth watered in anticipation. When the layers were stripped away, cup tossed aside, Jason had to suck in the corners of his mouth to keep from drooling.

Bruce was _equipped._ Bigger than he remembered from being a kid taking sneaky peeks in the Batcave's showers. Of course, he'd never gotten to see the man erect before either.

Not wanting to seem like he was backing down from a challenge, Jason was quick to act. He tongued at the underside of the head, drawing it into his mouth and sucking. It bobbed and slipped from between his lips, slapping him on the cheekbone, and almost catching him in the eye. 

Wouldn't be the weirdest injury he ever got, but definitely the most embarrassing. He guessed he was lucky Roy wasn't alive right now to question him about the nice new bruises he was going to have. Or why he wouldn't be able to sit for at least a week.

And Jason definitely didn't want to be thinking about his dead best friend as he straightened up, scooting forward on his knees to better swallow his former mentor's cock. 

Jason knew how to do this. _ Like riding a bicycle. _He thought, as he forced his throat to relax. He desperately wanted to pick the lock on the cuffs, so he could use one hand to steady the Bat's dick, and the other to jerk himself off. It wouldn't take more than a couple of minutes; after all, he'd copied a lot of his own gadgets from the old man's designs. But that would mean ending this game.

Mercifully, Batman used his free hand to grip himself around the base, and the other to guide Jason's head down. Jason gagged as the tip was forced into his throat without stopping this time. Instinctively, he panicked. Everything Batman had ever taught him was to avoid this exact situation — _ off-balance, underequipped, vital airway cut off by the enemy. _

Jason gave in, swallowed, harkened himself back to a boy kneeling on wet garbage because it hurt less than asphalt. At least the smell and taste were a lot better, and he was thankful for that as Batman finally bottomed out, burying his nose in a small patch of dark pubic hair. 

Jason breathed deeply — or as deeply as he could with a huge cock testing the elasticity of his esophagus — to prepare himself, _subtly _taking in the musky scent of the old man's sweat with a lingering trace of Bruce Wayne's cologne. Saliva watered up in his mouth, and he swallowed involuntarily.

There was the softest sound, the hiss of air between teeth. So he did it again. Hips pitched forward in reply, and Jason hummed encouragingly. Batman didn't hesitate to answer him with brutal thrusts.

Jason's lips tingled with the friction. His throat burned, so dry, but still made a sickening _ slick _ sound as Batman's hard cock fucked in and out. It seemed like every time he stuttered in a breath he sparked the Bats anger further, thrusts becoming harder, faster, more punishing. A _ purpose _ behind his action.

Jason had always thought if there was anyone _the_ _Bat-man_ would break his Number One rule for it would be him. When he was a dumb kid, he thought it would be to protect Jason; his Robin, his _partner. _Now he wasn't sure if there was anyone his once-hero wanted to hurt more.

Worse, Jason wanted Bruce to hurt him. At least it meant the man was paying attention to him, because for some reason, it was easier to antagonize him than to start a damn conversation. 

Jason explored the raised flesh forming on his backside, let his fingertips slip against the sweat dripping down from his back, teasing over his rim. It caught him off guard, and he moaned.

And he couldn't stop. 

Jason repeated the motion again and again, more firmly, speeding up until he was stroking over his hole in time with Batman's furious thrusts. Imagined being manhandled back over the desk and shoved into from behind with the same ferocious treatment his mouth was currently getting.

Bruce's pace stuttered. He huffed, straining to suppress a pleased groan. It sent a wave of heat through Jason, and he whined, pushing until he was able to work the dry tip of a finger inside himself, unable to do much else.

Jason expected the Bat to force himself as deep as possible when he came. Braced himself for it. He was surprised when the man pulled almost all the way out, so only the tip was resting heavy on Jason's tongue. He stroked the shaft with a painful-looking grip, holding the former Robin in place as he cleansed Jason's palate with his release.

Semen overflowed, seeping out around the corners of Jason's mouth to join the saliva that coated his chin thickly. Jason swallowed what he could, then lapped and sucked at the head until Batman shuddered and pushed him off with a grunt.

There was a small part of him that hoped the praise would come again afterward. Maybe it'd even been the motivation. 

Jason ignored the disappointment when Bruce looked away from him, turning away to fix himself. When he turned back, he was the same stoic statue that had flown in at the start of all this. Batman marched back towards the sliding glass door out to the balcony, and Jason was positive he was going to leave without even looking back at him this time. He was surprised when Batman paused for a second time that night.

The old man turned to look at him, consideringly. "You should reconsider leaving Gotham."

Jason opened his mouth, but coughs came out instead of words. He swallowed dryly a few times to get his salivary glands working again. 

_ "Stop by anytime, _daddy." He rasped.

Jason huffed out a laugh when that face twisted up in anger again, before Batman disappeared over the ledge of the building, leaving the sliding door open and the cool air of a Gotham night behind.

Once he was sure the old man was gone, Jason took the opportunity to assess his options. For one, he'd probably have to toss out his suit and _ definitely _ take a two-hour shower. Two, he needed to get out of here without anyone seeing what a disgusting mess he was, so that — Three, he could _ fucking come. _

All of _ that _ required getting out of these stupid cuffs.

The Bat-cuffs were a lot more rigid than regular cuffs, making it more difficult to move, but he finally managed to reach far enough up his sleeve to find…

_ Nothing . _

That batty motherfucker had taken_ — thieved — _ his set of lockpicks. Well, that sounded like an invitation to raid the Batcave. In order to right the wrong of his stolen property, of course. And maybe steal himself a little memento in return.

_ And so their game continued ... _

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I couldn't resist sneaking that "stop by anytime, dad ;)" line back in there haha
> 
> I really wanted Jay to call B "daddy" instead, so I switched it up...


End file.
